On February 15th, around 1:40 in the morning, my stepdad passed away after a long battle with Lewy Body dementia. Lewy Body is a progressive disease, so the outcome was largely foretold and the main unknown was the exact timing.
My biological dad died from lung cancer when I was 12, so in a lot of ways Jim ended up being the primary father figure in my life. And I’m not sure where I’d be if not for his influence. For example, when I was young, I was generally anxious, painfully shy and largely avoided other humans. I refused to eat much besides peanut butter and jam sandwiches and disliked most food. My dad was a little too laissez-faire, Jim was more proactive.
I remember he made me sit at the table until I finished my chunky soup. I cried a bunch (I was probably like 8, ha ha), but I ate that soup. And now today, the only food I truly hate is olives.
He also made me start talking to people. I would have to call restaurants to make reservations, golf courses to make tee times, and so on. And what do you know, I ended up coming out of my shell, and became a reasonably functional human bean (pun intended, one of his favourites). It was basic exposure therapy, but it worked.
He was determined and sometimes bull-headed, which led him down many different paths. Most famously, he formed Operation Dismantle to oppose nuclear proliferation, and if you were Canadian and watching or listening to the news in the late 70s and 80s, there’s a good chance you saw him on your TV. More recently, he was focused on his own vision of world federalism, where his idealism led him down a path well before its time.
I hadn’t seen him since 2014, due to my own illness (agoraphobia/fear of traveling), and then his progressing dementia. I’ll always regret my part in that, but it is what it is. We grew apart for a few years there, and then the Lewy Bodies made it impossible to build much on the foundation afterwards. He had a hard time relating to my mental issues, which are apparently too complicated to be solved by exposure therapy alone. He never really understood the trash picking either. I think he doubted the long-term viability of it, which is fair. Only in recent years do I think, without a doubt, that I’ve proven that making an ok living doing this is possible. But by that time, his brain wasn’t working so well anymore.
He always loved owls and had a nice collection of miniatures. I sold him a bunch more several years back, when I found a nice collection on the curb. His brain was starting to go around then, so I’m not sure the headspace he was in when he decided to buy them. Maybe he just liked the owls, or maybe he just wanted to connect. Regardless, I’ll soon inherit a few of my favourites, as well as some other stuff. Dealing with someone’s possessions can be overwhelming, which is partly why some of it ends up in the trash (even when it’s treasure), but I think our family knows how to deal with it in the best way possible.
Anyways, he could be a pain in the arse sometimes, but no one could dispute his passion and his dedication to the betterment of humanity as a whole. He didn’t like religion and didn’t believe in heaven, but I’m more of an agnostic. Who knows, maybe some part of him is still out there, and hopefully he’s proud of what comes next for both me and humanity (even if it’s looking a little bleak right now).
Lovely write-up, Martin. *hugs*
So sorry for your loss.
Condolences to your family.
Lewy Body, and all Dementia’s, is a cruel disease. My daughter in law’s father has it. And my own father has Dementia.
Very sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing with us. He was indeed a remarkable man who strove to make this world a better place.
Condolences to you Martin and thanks for letting us into your history and life. Hang in there, a day at a time Dementia is an unforgiving disease.
It’s quite strange the relationships we have with parents and siblings as we grow up and hopefully mature. It is much different than one can imagine or believe when you look back and remember days gone by and then today or recent days. We often lose touch as we grow and it is hard for all involved and sometimes, even harder to bridge the gap to get in touch again. It sounds as though your stepfather was an important person/parent in your life, who helped with life adjustments etc. I am sorry for your loss, and I hope you have many memories to fall back on as you go through this difficult time. When my father passed away almost 2 years ago, I remember lots of tears and then there were also moments of laughter between my brother and myself. It’s part of the adjustment and change, I suppose. My condolences to you and your family. Your stepfather sounds like he was quite talented and wanted to make healthy changes in the world. Ranee
Sorry for your loss, Martin. I am sure he would be proud of you.
I enjoy your posts and look forward to them.
Take care
Marty Gregory
I am sorry for your loss.
Thank you for sharing.
No matter what any of us believe comes after this life, our memories keep people with us long after they cease to be physically here.
Martin, so sorry for the loss of your step-dad Jim. Condolences to you and your family. You wrote a beautiful sincere and touching tribute, with many good things to remember. Thanks for sharing it.
Sorry for your loss. Your step-Dad sounds like he was a wonderful and interesting man. As long as you remember him, he is never truly gone. Thank you for sharing.
My condolences to you and your family. Dementia is a difficult disease in any of its forms. It seems especially cruel somehow when the person has always been intelligent and productive. He’ll live on as long as there are people who remember him fondly. Take care of yourself, Martin.
Very sorry for your loss, Martin. That was a very touching tribute to your stepdad. My uncle passed away on the exact same day. Looks like we are going through very similar emotions. Please keep your strength and take special care.
Invictus, Jim, and love to you, Martin.
Martin and family, condolences for your loss. Your tribute is honest, unvarnished, and respectful. Humanity could sure use a whole lot more Jims by the sounds of it, especially these days.
Hey Martin, Beautiful tribute well written as always. Love and condolences to your and your family.
Families can be complex, but it sounds like your step-dad did his best to help you and the planet. We sometimes don’t know what a person has meant to us till they are gone. Take care, Martin.
Thank you for your honesty and your insight into what your step-dad meant to you. Sorry that he has gone but sounds like he left you and others with wonderful memories.
Hi Martin. I feel like I know you through your mother. I knew Jim in 1970. I met him through my husband, who at the time was his roommate in St Petersburg, FL. I was 15 at the time and have to admit that Jim kind of intimidated me with his intelligence, but I came to really care about him in a very short time. Back when he started the world federalism thing, I built the web site for him. My husband (also named Jim) passed away about 2 weeks before Jim. I like to think they’ve passed to another golf course for another round somewhere. Both will be missed. By the way, I fully understand the trash picking, my husband and I did pretty much the same thing for 7 years in the 70s during a recession when no jobs available. When I turned up pregnant, he said “Does this mean I have to get a real job now?”. He did.
I’m glad you had him, he was obviously a good influence in many ways. We know so much more now in treating mental struggles. Enjoy your good memories of him.
Hi, Martin. Thank you for sharing this essay about your stepdad. Bless him for caring so much about how all of us human beings interact with each other here on planet earth! I am sorry for your loss — and grateful for the wonderful work that you do.
Sorry for your loss enjoy the good memories. Hugs
What a beautiful thing to read. I’m sorry for your loss. He sounds very special. I loved the owls! Thanks for adding the link to that find years ago. Wow.
That was a beautiful tribute to read. I am sorry for your loss but thank you for posting this.
So rare to find a person that cares so deeply about everything they experience while here. We all owe him a our gratitude. You were very lucky to have him by your side. Think of him when things feel tough and know he would have kicked you in the arse to just do it… and smile.